“You bastard!” She glared at him. “How dare you try and scare me? I should tear you apart!”
“Mm,” he smirked. Ulyssa’s heart nearly fluttered out of her chest at the sultry look he gave her. He wasn’t worried by her threats. Her mouth went dry. His fingers glanced over her neck, past her racing pulse. “Like you tried to tear me apart last night?”
“I-I,” she stuttered, at a sudden loss. Had she attacked him last night? Fighting the haze of memory, she tried to recall. His eyes drifted to her mouth. She could feel his heat pouring over her, soaking into her skin.
“You tried to offer yourself to me and, when I refused, you threatened my life.”
Licking her lips, Ulyssa’s gaze followed his lead and moved down over his body. To her surprise, she discovered his chest was bare. Hard muscles moved beneath his skin, rippling over the surface in male perfection. The heady scent of man came over her, like an intoxicating perfume that left her panting. Her gaze moved over his strong arms, wondering how they would feel holding her. Not an ounce of fat marred the look of him.
Then, very slowly, his words sunk in. He’d refused her! It was like a slap in the face. Her eyes rounded in horror.
“You’re fortunate, briallen,” he murmured. “If it had been tonight, you’d have died for the offense.”
Kirill stepped back from her and turned. Ulyssa watched him walk away. Her eyes rounded in surprise to see that he was completely naked. Another wave of fiery longing swept through her at the sight. She couldn’t help it. In a twisted way, his rejection only made her want him more. She loved a challenge—and this man was definitely the most handsome challenge she’d seen in a long time.
Luxurious waves of black hair flowed over his back and shoulders, drawing her eye down the hard muscles surrounding his spine to his narrow hips. His taut buttocks moved with power and grace. She wanted to touch it, grab it, control it—control him. Too bad she really didn’t like him. But, then again, when did you have to like the person to sleep with them? It’s not like she wanted to stand around making small talk first. It’s not like she wanted to get to know him at all. Handsome men never had anything interesting to say.
Ulyssa licked her lips in anticipation. She smiled, not even hesitating before following him to the bedroom. He was cute. Her shots were up to date. If he tried to talk, she’d just have to gag him to shut him up, or at least put his mouth to a better use. Giving a little practice wiggle of her hips, she thought, I’m not drunk now. Let’s just see him try and refuse me again!
Chapter Three
Kirill locked her out.
Ulyssa paused and tried the door handle a second time. Yeah, he’d definitely locked her out of his bedroom. Her cheeks flamed. Placing her hands on her hips, she tapped her foot in anger. Well, if he was going to be a prude there wasn’t a damned thing she could do about it. Stupid fool was missing out on the best sex he’d ever be offered.
Pounding on the door, she yelled, “Hey, pussy cat! Mind telling me how to get out of here?”
To her surprise, the door opened. He was fully dressed, as he had been the night before, in seductively tight black. She pulled away from the door to let him pass.
“Don’t tempt me to shift, woman. I won’t be so kind as to turn back next time.” Kirill’s voice was hard. He brushed past her to the living room, leaning over to pick up his clothes from the floor. Under his breath she heard him mumble in his native language something about ripping out her bothersome throat to shut her up. She thought it best not to ask him to clarify the entire statement.
“Sorry,” she answered, rolling her eyes at his back and making a face. Going beside the bathroom he pushed a tile. When an opening appeared in the wall, he tossed the clothes inside and walked to the kitchen. The hole closed behind him.
When he ignored her half-hearted apology, she followed him to the kitchen and demanded softly, “So, how do I get out of here?”
“Do you ever quit talking?” he asked, seeming amused. “The morning is a time of silence and reflection of the day.”
The kitchen was constructed of industrial metal against stone. Despite the fact that they were inside a castle, it was very modern in convenience. Ulyssa watched him open a cabinet and take out a bowl. She did her best not to smirk. Next, he grabbed a jar of milk from the fridge. She bit her lip to keep from laughing. Oh, it was just too easy—kitty cat with his bowl of cream. Unable to resist, she asked, “Having breakfast?”
He shot her a puzzled frown. Ulyssa snorted as she tried not to laugh.
“What’s wrong with you now?” Kirill demanded. His brow furrowed.
“Um, nothing,” she managed, still struggling for control.
“You are a strange one, aren’t you? I don’t suppose you escaped from the medical ward?”
Ulyssa’s expression fell.
“Guess not,” he answered for himself. Taking a metal container, he poured a powdery substance into it and then added the milk. He handed her the bowl. She stared at the gruel with a look of disgust. He put the milk away, grabbed a spoon, and thrust it into the bowl. “Here, eat. Then I will bring you back to the harem.”
Ulyssa’s stomach growled, as if to answer for her. She was famished. Slowly lifting the spoon, she tested the mixture with the tip of her tongue. It tasted bland, like milky paste, so she braved a small bite.
“There has only been one night of pairing,” Kirill said, moving through the kitchen to the dim living room. He paused to stretch his arms over his head. “If you’re lucky, some of the willing bachelors will still be without a mate.”
“Excuse me?” she choked, dropping the spoon into the bowl she carried with her. “What exactly is this pairing thing you want me to do?”
“The Var bachelors have come to woo the half-mates, at least those who haven’t bore children to King Attor. Those who wish it will be married.” Kirill stopped stretching and turned to study her.
“Oh, no,” Ulyssa said, shaking her head. “Not a chance in hell! King Attor is not pawning me off on some.…”
His brow rose in warning, as if he could sense her coming insult. She choked it back with some effort. She wasn’t used to curbing her tongue.
“…some man,” she finished weakly.
“You’re right,” Kirill said. “King Attor isn’t. I am.”
“You? Who are you to decide my fate?” Ulyssa took a threatening step forward and scowled. “You’re just some... I don’t know what you are. Some guard? What do you care if I marry?”
Kirill’s arms crossed over his sturdy chest in a very domineering manner. His head tilted arrogantly to the side. He said nothing.
“Oh, I see. You’re a guard and you’ve picked me to... woo.” Ulyssa sighed. “Listen, I’m really flattered, but I’m—”
“I have no wish to mate,” Kirill stated.
“Oh, then I’m sure we can come to some sort of an arrangement.” Ulyssa shot him her sweetest smile, letting her lashes flutter over her eyes. It was a look she saved for special occasions such as these. It was a look that men could not resist.
Kirill’s didn’t move, except to blink, as he showed no masculine interest.
“Fine,” she grumbled. Snarling, her eyes rolled heavenward. “Listen. Let me be perfectly honest. I don’t belong here. I don’t want to get married and sweep up fur balls for the rest of my days. As you can see, I’d surely make any Var’s life a living hell. I’m just not made to be a—”
“What is this place, hell?” Kirill interrupted.
“It’s both a place and a concept. Human sinners go there when they die and—Argh! It doesn’t matter!” Ulyssa waved a hand toward him in distraction. “It’s bad—very bad! It’s like being burned alive and tortured at the same time, every day, all day, for all eternity. That’s what being married to me would be like.”
Kirill frowned, eyeing her as if she was insane.
Ulyssa forged on, “So, if you would kindly tell King Attor that you didn’t see me and point me in the direction o
f the nearest exit, I’ll gladly get out of here. You’ll never have to lay eyes on me again.”
As if an idea suddenly hit him, he sighed. “You haven’t been told?
“Told what?” Her frustrated grumble was audible.
“How can this be?” Kirill asked. His face softened, as did his voice. “Were you not in the harem? I would have thought they made an announcement. Taura is usually one to make sure the harem runs smoothly.”
“I didn’t exactly talk to the other women there,” Ulyssa answered, remembering how they avoided her like she was a plague carrier. “Why do you ask?”
“I’m truly sorry to have to tell you this, but King Attor is dead. He died a week ago in battle. I was under the impression his half-mates were informed of this.”
Ulyssa kept her face blank. The King was dead?
“If it makes you feel better, he died bravely,” Kirill offered.
“What do I care?” Ulyssa shrugged. Her mind raced with questions and schemes. With the King dead, the castle could be in a state of turmoil. It might just work to her advantage. Or, everything might be on lockdown, and it could work against her. “Attor was a barbaric jerk. I say good riddance.”
After she said the words, she wanted to take them back. What was it about this man that disarmed her and made her think more about sex and less about survival? Kirill’s eyes fell but she didn’t notice. When he again looked at her, his face was hard.
“So, who’s a girl have to bargain with to get a little freedom around here?” she asked, flippantly.
“Me,” he answered.
Ulyssa focused on him once more, shooting him a playful smile. Her brow rose on her face, as she asked, “Oh, yeah? Why you, sweetheart?”
“Because I’m Attor’s oldest son and the future King of the Var.” Kirill’s words were light, but deadly.
Ulyssa paled, instantly sorry for her offhand remarks about his father. She’d never had said them if she’d known. She stood, speechless, her mouth slightly agape. His eyes glittered with golden threat and, for a brief moment, she thought he would shift and tear her apart. To her surprise, Kirill turned from her and stalked away into the darkness.
In the shadowy corner, she watched as a door opened to offer in light. She wanted to kick herself for not seeing it before—the front door in plain sight and unlocked. Kirill’s handsome body filled the frame before the door closed once more.
Ulyssa was spurred into instant action, afraid he’d lock her in. When she got to the door, she threw it open and looked out into the long hallway. Kirill was gone and she was free to go.
* * * *
Kirill stormed down the castle halls, eager to get away from the aggravating woman in his home. He didn’t have time to deal with her. He didn’t want to deal with her—not today, not ever. Let her go. What did he care if she escaped? It would be one less of Attor’s women to worry about.
On most days, Attor’s women were free to go about the castle, though they chose not to. However, until a new King was officially crowned, the castle was kept under tight lock and key. After his coronation, it would be up to him to decide the women’s fate. Already, most of them expressed an interest in marrying the Var soldiers. It was a wise, logical decision, as they’d be given their own home and be taken care of. Most Var chose to mate for life, others half-mated and were still very happy and content. The women would be provided for, cared for, some even loved.
Kirill suddenly stopped. Unbidden, his eyes turned behind him, looking back toward his home. He swallowed. No matter how he tried to deny it, he wanted the frustrating wench. Ulyssa. Sacred Cats! She was beautiful, fiery, bold. Her very smell stirred his blood, making him want to pounce and ravage. Only once did she show her fear of him, though he’d detected it at other times—a faint smell, one that was suppressed and well hidden.
He couldn’t blame her for fearing his panther form. He’d done everything he could to frighten her. But, when he saw her brave façade crumble and her body tremble in the most feminine way, he couldn’t continue. He wanted, no needed, to give her comfort. The realization made him pause. Her nearness quickened him and stirred his blood. If he was honest with himself, his body needed her, desired her more than he had any other in a very long time.
Needed? He needed no one. He couldn’t. He was the future King. Had not his father said that all Kings must stand alone, beholden to none?
“To be ruled by a woman is to be ruled by weakness.” He could hear his father’s gruff voice clearly, as Attor’s words renewed themselves in his head.
“I don’t need her. I need release,” he growled low under his breath, moving to stalk the hallways once more. “She’s but a stranger. She’s not special. Any woman will do, so long as her thighs spread and her body is soft. I don’t need anybody.”
Kirill turned, glancing once more over his shoulder.
“I don’t need anyone.”
* * * *
Ulyssa was again lost in the maze-like halls of the palace. It was strange, but out of an hour of wandering, she’d only come across one guard and he’d been easy to avoid. She shook her head. Security in the palace did seem to be lacking, that was for sure. If she were in charge of security she’d post...
Wait. What was she thinking? She wanted nothing to do with this heathenish place.
She frowned, looking down the endless halls with a sense of boredom, trying to remember if she’d seen a particular pattern before in the wall. The mosaic tiles started to look alike and she developed a migraine from concentrating on them, as she tried to memorize their unique designs. It did no good. She was most definitely lost—not that she’d been found in the beginning.
Ulyssa’s thoughts turned to the future King of the Var. She should have known he was royalty. His very barbaric, powerful nature radiated off his graceful form. He was regal and strong. There was a keen intelligence to his gaze, a sturdy caution, a quiet thoughtfulness. Ulyssa was trained in how to read people. Shifters were no different than humans, once you studied their habits. Everything she needed to know about her enemies was in their actions and expressions.
The fact that he’d not shown anger at her words against his father spoke volumes. This was a man who would bide his time, patiently waiting for the perfect moment to strike. A hot-blooded man would’ve had her killed for such slander, or at least would’ve beaten her within a centimeter of her life. Not Prince Kirill. He was cool, calm. He was a force to be wary of and he was definitely the perfect man to lead the primitive Var nation. She was glad she wasn’t going to be around long enough to see his rule.
Ulyssa stopped paying attention to where she was going, as a small smile came to her face. Prince Kirill was definitely one of the most handsome creatures she’d seen in a long time, and she had seen many. Her body heated and melted just thinking about the way he moved. Her arms ached to touch him. She’d just bet he was graceful in bed. Such a pity she wasn’t going to find out.
Almost as badly as she wanted to test his skill as a lover, she wanted to test his skill as a fighter. With those animal reflexes, she just bet he’d be a worthy combatant, even without shifting. Oh, and his weapons! She’d nearly swooned in excitement to see them. Her fingers still itched, wanting to draw down the many swords from the weapons cabinet. She knew a few defensive moves with a blade, but she really wanted to learn more. There never seemed to be time at the Agency for archaic weapon training. Almost all species she dealt with used a type of gun. The ones that didn’t weren’t handled by her unit.
“Halt!”
Ulyssa blinked at the command, surprised but not afraid. She turned to see a large Var warrior standing before her. The man was half-shifted, his features not all cat and not quite human. He wore the Medieval-like tunic of a guard. A light tiger striped fur covered his face and neck with orange and black, mimicked by the fur on his hands. His voice was a gravelly pitch, as if garbled by the beginnings of a roar.
Ulyssa grinned, looking forward to a little sport. A brow rose artfully
on her features. There was only one of them and she so wanted to test her abilities against a Var in a fair fight. “Yes?”
“You’re not to be walking the halls,” the tiger man said.
Ulyssa tried to hide her smirk. “Oh? And why’s that?”
“Because it is forbidden the night of the coronation,” another voice answered.
The second Var was behind her. Ulyssa froze. She hadn’t heard his approach. There was no growl to his tone, only a flat dominance. The blackness in the voice gave her chills. Slowly, she turned. Before her was a large warrior, perhaps the largest Var she’d seen yet. She grimaced. He would not be so easy to beat. Even without his impressive build, she detected a quality to him that screamed militant warrior.
“I—I have permission,” Ulyssa answered weakly. She hated herself for stuttering.
“Permission?” the large warrior repeated, giving nothing away from his overly serious face. Then, turning to the tiger man, he ordered, “On your way, Navid.”
“Yes, Commander Falke,” the tiger, Navid, answered.
Ulyssa didn’t bother to watch the guard obey. He’d become the lesser of her worries.
Falke turned back to her and again prompted, “Permission?”
“Yes,” Ulyssa lied, lifting her jaw. “From Prince Kirill.”
Falke’s brow rose, urging her silently to continue.
“He has chosen me for his woman,” she said, watching the man’s face carefully. “I spent last night in his room. So I demand that you let me be on my way before you incur the future King’s wrath.”
Shifter Fated Mates: Boxed Set Page 37